


Hunt of Two

by Ogress



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, BS Science, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, M/M, Porn With Plot, Romance, Smut, Violence, random planets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23747335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ogress/pseuds/Ogress
Summary: In the vast emptiness of the galaxy its good to know you're not alone, that no matter where the hunt takes you there is someone at your back.The little one is a lousy co-pilot, but at least he's there to keep Din Djarin company, until they pick up another lost Mandalorian on the way to nowhere in particular...
Relationships: Din Djarin/Paz Vizla, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Paz Vizla, The Mandalorian/Paz Vizsla, din/paz
Comments: 95
Kudos: 641





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Expect rambling, violence, sex, occasional humour and whatever else pops into my head!
> 
> Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad- I know your name as my child

The first time Din Djarin took his helmet off in front of the child he had expected the little creature to react with confusion or fear; instead the little green baby raised his large floppy ears and shrieked with genuine delight. Now he had a feeling the child would recognize him no matter what he wore on his head.

_His_ child, _his_ Adiik... He had spoken the customary words of Mandalorian adoption that day beside Kuiil’s grave. Still it was a strange concept to wrap his helmet around, even though he had already cared for the child for months. The armourer having so staunchly affirmed what he realized he’d been avoiding, put a tight fist around his heart. The task she had set him on was very likely an impossible one, or perhaps he more hoped it was. Finding the little one’s kind in a vast galaxy, where no one seemed to have seen anything like it before. Maybe he was the last... But whether he found the child’s kind or not he would be as its father until then, and the little one so far had no objections.

He smiled at the small green child as they ate their meal together. The Mandalorian couldn’t remember the last time he had a meal with anyone face to face; it was a long time ago... Solitary as he was, he missed the boisterous training arenas of his youth, even the Covert, with a good board game and quiet conversation. He had been out on his own since the rule had been implemented to protect the Covert; only one Mandalorian could be seen coming or going at a time. Now his journeys were at least a little less lonely.

The child mashed his three fingered little paw into the doughy bread lump in front of him, making an imprint and giggling as the substance slowly rose back to its original shape.

“Eat it, don’t play with it,” Din admonished, though he didn’t care for the stale ration either.

Their meal was suddenly interrupted as the proximity alarm began to blare. Din shoved his helmet onto his head and grabbed the child, quickly ascending the ladder to the cockpit. He set the child into the padded ammo box strapped to the co-pilot seat and sat down at the console. A red blip on the radar screen was coming up fast behind them. Had the empire found them? It was unlikely, deep in Hutt space, but not impossible. A bounty hunter then? Certainly not one of Greef’s; the man wouldn’t betray him again, especially not with Cara at his side.

The ship gaining on them was small and in much worse shape than his own. The smaller ship fired a poorly aimed shot, the red bolt shooting past far off to the left. ‘Broken targeting system,’ Din thought. As the ship came closer he could make out some sort of red symbol painted on its hull, a crude skull of sorts, maybe a rancor. A pirate! Another bolt flashed past, this time too close to the engine for comfort.

The transceiver pinged and he opened the line; a deep, guttural voice coming through in barely coherent Huttese; he thought it said something like “I’m going to reduce you to scrap!” Well, no room for discussion there, not that he entertained the idea of letting this scumbag live.

He swerved the Razor Crest as the bolts began to fly in earnest, they weren’t able to pierce most of the ships paneling and deflector shields, but a few lucky shots could do some serious damage if the shields failed. That’s just what the rover was counting on with the ceaseless barrage of fire. The small ship’s laser guns overwhelmed the already faulty shield projectors and a shot clipped the engine. He tried to outmaneuver the pirate but the small craft kept close behind, easily keeping up with them, and seemed determined on his left side. The Mandalorian cranked the ship hard to the right and down, engaging the reverse system and coming up behind on the pirate’s right side as they blew past.

The Razor Crest’s dual blaster canons fired, directly impacting the rover's fuel tank, and the small ship exploded in a brief but satisfying fireball and shrapnel, sparkling off into space.

Din breathed a sigh of relief, just as a late warning light flashed signaling a fuel leak, and the lights went out. The child cooed and giggled in the dark. This was familiar... He got out of his seat to click on the backup generator; it would need to be refueled as well if this was going to become a regular occurrence. The left engine also needed repair, sparks were flying from it, and he prayed it would hold for a while longer.

Hyperdrive was out of the question; luckily they weren’t stranded in the middle of empty space, he didn’t want to have to put out a distress beacon and alert other potential enemies. Hutt space was full of pirates, shipjackers and other criminals. He set a course for the nearest lawless planet, hoping they wouldn’t be accosted before they arrived.

He turned to check on the child, who was fine and seemingly happy. Din lifted him out of the ammo box and set him on his lap. “You weren’t much help back there,” he said. The child responded by looking up at him with his enormous brown eyes and giving an innocent laugh. The child could do some amazing things, but he was a lousy co-pilot. 


	2. Following your Footsteps

There were a few planets nearby, most of them sparsely inhabited. He chose the one with the largest populace and most likely to find someone to fix his ship. Klatooine, an arid desert planet largely inhabited by the native Klatooinians, but more settlements of varying species had cropped up in recent years. The Hutts also had a strong presence here, so of course it was riddled with crime. He wouldn’t expect a warm welcome beyond the heat of the blazing sun. 

Entrance into the atmosphere wasn’t entirely smooth, but the Razor Crest made it in one piece. Locating a populated area far from the main city, Din set the ship down in a crowded shipyard; more merchandise to choose from meant it was less likely that the Crest would be picked apart. He’d already spotted a number of offworld Jawas meandering around the edges of the settlement, and the empty metal frames rusting on the outskirts of the yard. No one looked twice at the addition of another beat up old ship, it fit right in.

The Mandalorian checked his equipment and ammunition and slung his Amban sniper rifle over his back. After engaging the security protocols on the ship he gathered the child into his arms; this time he wouldn’t make the mistake of leaving him behind. With the Razor Crest locked down they made their way towards the squat duracrete buildings of the settlement, the little one squinting in the dust kicked up by other landing and departing ships.

The first order of business was to find a mechanic trustworthy enough to repair the damaged engine; easier said than done in a place like this, and the prices were steep. They didn’t have to go far to find the mechanics district, the majority of businesses situated close to the shipyard. Only a few of the places had shops big enough for an actual craft, others were repairmen for hire. All of said shops were full, making the latter the only option if they wanted to get off the planet any time soon; but unfortunately was also the least reliable.

Din scanned the faces available; his character judgement was about fifty-fifty these days and he wasn’t keen on hiring any of the Klatooinians; their porcine reptile faces only read aggression. He didn’t get a good look at the pirate that had damaged his ship, but suspected they were Klatooinian. He settled on a middle aged human male tinkering with a speeder bike outside of a shop. The man didn’t look up as he approached, magnifying goggles still fixated on his task.

“S’not done yet, still need to fix the antigrav,” the man said, not realizing who his customer was. “If you don’t mind,” he waved a hand dismissively, “you’re in my light!” Din didn’t move. “I said...oh!” The man finally looked up to see the Mandalorian standing there, eyes going absurdly wide under the goggles.

“I need an engine and fuel leak fixed,” Din said, as the man fumbled to put down his tools and lift the goggles onto his forehead.

“Well, I’m a little occupied at the moment but...”

“Never mind, I’ll look elsewhere.” Din turned to leave but the man called after him.

“Now hold on a minute, I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.”

“I’m in a hurry,” he didn’t turn back to the mechanic right away.

“No problem, I can fix it quick for ya.”

“You don’t even know the extent of the damage,” Din pointed out, “and I thought you were busy?” The man waved his hand again, dismissing the words.

“I can do you a decent price and start right away, let’s say... three hundred peggats up front?” The Mandalorian didn’t have that many peggats, he didn’t deal with them that often. The man seemed to note his hesitation and revised, “I can take mixed currency, hell I’ll even take creds.”

Din had reservations, he had a feeling this guy was desperate for business, likely had some debts overdue. But it was probably the best price we would find, and he was hard pressed to find anyone who would take imperial credits these days.

“Fine,” he agreed. The little one had been quietly looking between the two men as they talked, Din set the child at his feet, counting out the value in the various currencies he carried and handing them over. He had to plant a foot on the edge of the child’s robe to keep him from wandering away; maybe he should look into getting him a leash.

“Honour doing business with a Mando, where’s your ship?” The man put the money into a leather pouch, glancing around a bit nervously like he expected a gang to rush him at any moment.

“Razor Crest, middle of the yard.”

“Razor Crest eh? That’s an old one, don’t think I can miss that.” He motioned for a couple of pit droids to carry his tools.

Din didn’t bother telling him not to use the droids, his hatred of them hadn’t lessened, but lately experience had made him see the necessity of reluctant compromise. A sudden memory of Kuiil and the reprogrammed IG-11 stung him; the Ugnaught had been sincere in his work. Maybe droids did have the potential to be as decent as their handlers. Still, the Mandalorian had not survived this far in life by trusting strangers; he didn’t bother to warn the mechanic about the security protocols if they tampered with the locking system.

The repairs would take hours, maybe even a day or two if it was that bad, he would take the time to provision, maybe look for work. He let the child walk at his heels as they wandered towards the market district. The little one waddled after him, distracted by the noise around him, turning his head to take everything in and tripping on the oversized robe, falling flat on his face. After a few more stumbles Din decided it was best to just carry him.

He picked his way through the throngs of sentients bustling around the bazaar. The air was hot and full of the smell of cooking meat, and an underlying aroma of sweat and something else unpleasant; not much different from the streets of Nevarro. The baby eyed a roasting paddy frog on a spit and made a grabbing motion for it, looking up at Din with an unhappy noise as they passed on by.

The Mandalorian kept his guard up as he received wary and unfriendly stares, but no one dared to approach. He was used to dealing with unsavory folk; they tended to start fights without provocation. A brawl could start simply by looking at someone the wrong way; with the helmet they couldn’t tell where he was looking, but that wasn’t a deterrent. The Mandalorian reputation did him no good here either, as there was always someone foolish enough to try and prove it was unwarranted, eager to boast that they had killed a Mandalorian, or at least decked him a good one. Only after a significant display of violence would the rest of the populace give him a wide berth.

He stopped to look at a junk dealer’s stall displaying various metal parts, mostly things for droids that he would never have a need for, but there were some useful bits for repairing his weapons. He ducked under the tent, grateful for the shade, and set the child down to rummage through a box of mostly broken blasters. The Toydarian shopkeep tried to upsell his merchandise but wasn’t willing to argue with a Mandalorian when he said he knew what the parts were worth.

Din made a small purchase and turned to leave, immediately noticing the lack of big green ears in the vicinity. Panic immediately set in as he scanned the area for the familiar floppy ears. He didn’t see them. He didn’t want to draw unwanted attention by yelling for the kid, who likely wouldn’t answer anyway. This wasn’t the first time the kid had disappeared, in a crowd or on his own ship, but his heart still thumped with dread.

Activating the tracking on his visor he searched the ground. Among the countless footprints he could just make out the tiny three toed prints scattered about the area, obscured and scuffed by others passing by, and focused on them. He feared someone may have picked him up, until he spotted the undisturbed tracks across the way, leading into an alley. The trajectory of the prints said the little one had somehow managed to waddle straight through the crowd without being kicked over. Din hastily pursued.

The tracks led him down the alley, mingling briefly with the prints of another small creature, evidence of a scuffle, then the small feet scurried away until their path came to an end, directly in front of a pair of enormous boot prints!

Din was running now, trying to keep control over his mounting anxiety, following the boots further into the alley then turning into a narrow corridor between the stone dwellings. When they reached an empty doorframe the boot prints disappeared down a set of stairs. He moved stealthily now, descending below the streets into the dimly lit tunnels, not sewers but underground passages with various entrances to the upper streets and doors to the lower floors of the dwellings above. Rows of yellow lights ran along the low ceiling of the passage and metal pipes along the walls went into the ground to access the water reserves below the settlement. There were few people down here and they mostly ignored him, drinking from bottles of alcohol and sleeping against the walls among piles of garbage and vermin.

It was much cooler down here and the fading heat signature of the tracks was much clearer, they were further apart, his quarry knew they were being followed and was now moving quickly. He was led down a couple of branching tunnels before the big feet turned into the dark ahead, the lights above broken; not just broken but purposely shattered with shards of glass littering the ground, the fading glow from the wires in the bulbs told him this was done only moments ago. The helmet’s visor barely picked up the faint red glow of heat through the duracrete wall, but he couldn’t tell if there was just one assailant waiting for him.

Din drew his blaster and proceeded silently, prepared for an ambush. The broken lights said his would be attacker was counting on him not having vision in the dark; he should have the element of surprise. He silently approached the corner, avoiding crunching broken glass underfoot, tensing himself to strike.

Just as quickly as he rounded the corner an arm swung out and slammed into his chest, throwing him back with amazing force. He barely kept hold of his blaster as he hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from his lungs, and he pointed it up as a huge frame stepped out of the dark to loom over him...


	3. Unexpected...

Klatooine was hardly Paz’s first choice to settle and lay low, but it was one of the furthest inhabited planets from the Republic and the Empire remnants. The red planet was scorched and barren, save for the few cities and settlements clustered together. Odd how they always seemed to end up in places that reminded them of the ravaged wasteland Mandalore had become. Even though most planets in the galaxy were barren rocks, they would still never find one to call home. This was just another place to hide, until contact could be made with any surviving members of the tribe.

All those years below ground had taken a heavy toll on the Mandalorian gunner, the urge to walk about and be seen became a persistent itch, but a dogged paranoia hounded his every move. The armourer’s words of secrecy and survival haunted him; even here alone he felt a pressing need to ensure his current hideout was unsuspected and secluded. The memory of blaster fire, his brothers’ and sisters’ pained shouts echoing in the tunnels of Nevarro, it reminded him of the purge. So many had fallen; flushed from the sewers like vermin. Clearly the Empire still begrudged them, still continued their conquest to eradicate their kind. But the Mandalorians would never truly be gone; they would always rebuild their numbers. This is the way. Paz Vizla held to this hope, had little but hope in all the years of hiding away in dark places.

He had emerged from his new hiding hole to patrol the area and see what gossip he could glean from passersby. As usual there was nothing of import, only the latest shakedown of the merchants who failed to pay their dues to the Hutts, and a theft at a nearby paddy frog farm. The local cantina was a better place for news of the wider galaxy, and an excellent place to find a brawl.

As he made his way down the alley a sudden squabble from back towards the market had him spinning on his heel and drawing his blaster, on edge and wanting for a fight. An angry hissing, squeaking and squealing came from behind a trash bin; just two animals fighting. He put his blaster away as a fuzzy creature with six legs and a long spiky tail jumped up and scampered up the wall onto the rooftops. Then another creature came hurrying around the bin towards him on stubby legs, with wide frightened eyes and its long ears hanging low. What gave the big Mandalorian pause was that this creature was wearing clothes...

The little green creature toddled right up to his feet and craned its neck to look into the dark visor of the blue helmet, having no fear of this hulking beast of a man. It extended its little arms up to him, a clear indication of wanting to be picked up.

Paz bent down and put both hands around the creature's waist, though he only needed one, could crush the little thing easily in his fist. But he was gentle as he drew up and held the thing at arm’s length. _'A child?'_ Paz thought, it must be, its mannerisms said it was very young, far too young to be wandering on its own. He did not hear any frantic calls for a lost child from the market.

"Where'd you come from little one?" he asked. The strange child only giggled delightedly and wiggled its absurdly long ears. That's when he noticed the nasty scratch marks on the back of one ear, from the tussle with the creature no doubt. The little one didn’t seem too troubled by it, perhaps it was used to pain, a sobering thought. He pitied such a young child, having to live in a place like this. But still, the creature was unafraid and trusting in his hold. It had a charming ugliness to it, the more he looked at it the more it just seemed...cute.

He had supplies in the hideout; he would see the child taken care of before he attempted to return it. It was quite unique, surely someone would know who it belonged to.

As he walked with the child and turned the corner onto the narrow corridor he thought he saw the flash of something in the corner of his vision. Pausing, he was certain someone was hurrying down the alley. This could be the child’s guardian, but he would prefer to see them before being seen. He needed to find somewhere out of sight. He waited in the stairwell to the lower tunnels of the city and listened for the person to pass by the corridor, but they turned into it. They didn’t call out, and the stalking footsteps did not sound like a worried parent searching for a child...

Not waiting to be seen he took the stairs down two at a time and walked briskly down the nearly deserted tunnel. His audials picked up the echo of feet on the steps as the person seemed to be following his path. Well trained Mandalorian instinct kicked in and he ducked around the nearest corner and ran down the tunnel to the next. The person had spent enough time above ground that the heat signature from their body was clear through the wall as they rounded the previous corner, confirming that he was being purposely tracked.

If he was in for a fight he needed to find a more favourable position to confront his enemy. There was a dead end ahead, the big Mandalorian reached up to the low ceiling and smashed the overhead lights one by one as he passed, hoping they could not see clearly in the dark, then ducked into an alcove and waited.

The child made a worried noise, he hushed it and tucked it more securely into the crook of his left arm and readied himself to strike as the red blur slowly encroached on his position. 

As the figure came to the edge of the corner he swung out with his free arm, catching them dead in the chest and sending them flying backwards. The man hit the ground with an audible _Ooph!_ Paz drew his blaster, aiming at the prone figure just as their own weapon pointed at him in return.

Both men paused in stunned surprise at seeing another Mandalorian. Din was shocked to find he recognised the distinctive blue helmet behind the raised blaster, and Paz likewise identified the shine of the beskar below him.

Din slowly picked himself up, shaking off the powerful blow and trying not to let the ache in his chest and back show in his posture.

"Vizla," Din nodded to the larger Mandalorian.

"Djarin," Paz greeted him in return. Neither holstered their weapons immediately.

The child made himself known then, babbling happily and reaching out to his appointed father. He looked positively diminutive in Paz's hold.

"That's mine," Din pointed to the baby. That explained why the infant was so trusting of Paz, it had recognised his helmet. He handed the baby over; it looked familiar in the younger man's arms.

"This is the one you rescued that day, the one we revealed ourselves for?"

Din felt a stab of guilt in his gut. "Yes." No matter what the armourer had said, he still felt he was to blame for the Imperial remnant coming down on the covert, _knew_ he was to blame, and Paz knew it too. He braced for the conversation to come to blows and unconsciously tilted his body to the side, shielding the child. Paz didn’t make a move but kept his threatening stance, or maybe threatening was his default, he really hadn't seen him any other way.

There was a jolt of excitement upon recognising another Mandalorian, oddly enough it wasn’t quickly followed by disappointment at finding it was Din Djarin. Paz never thought he’d feel happy to see the man ever again, was relieved even to see he was alive and well, though it was quite satisfying to knock him on his ass.

Two Mandos out in the open could be a deterrent or a target; it could go either way, even though there was no one around to see them it was best to play it safe.

"We shouldn't talk here, come." Din nodded and followed as the large Mandalorian led the way back through the tunnel, he was so tall his helmet nearly scraped the ceiling, and did in a few places. Coming to a door in a side tunnel Paz input a sequence of buttons on his vambrace, a _click_ signaled the door unlocking from the other side. They stepped into a basement room, bare duracrete and dust floor like the tunnels outside, sparsely furnished with only a small table, chair and a cot in one corner. The heavy gunner's signature weapon leaned against the wall along with other supplies and crates. The door to the upper level of the dwelling was secured with a lock rigged to an explosive device.

"Rental," Paz explained. "Top floor is vacated; occupant is off world for a while." He had run of the whole place but decided to secure himself in the basement; it was the most defensible position.

He rummaged through his supplies and came up with a jar of bacta gel, handing it to Din. "For the little one's ear."

"Thank you." He hadn't even noticed the fresh scratches, the kid wasn't complaining at all. "Have you had contact with any of the others?" Din asked hopefully, as he spread the warm gel on the child's ear and inspected him for more injuries.

Paz shook his head. "You know what happened then, after you left?"

"Yes," Din replied somberly. "I met with the armourer, she stayed to salvage..." Paz nodded, unsurprised. She was a strong woman, in body and will, she had held them all together through the years since the purge.

Paz walked over and sat down on the chair beside the table, it creaked under his weight. "I haven't heard from any of us since it happened. We split off to different worlds; if one of us is spotted they can’t lead the Imps to the others."

Din nodded in understanding. He set the child down to wander around the small room and pulled up a supply crate to sit opposite Paz.

Paz's helm tilted, following the little one as it toddled around. "Our brothers died for that one," he said absently. He didn’t notice the way the younger man's fist clenched on the table.

"Do you regret it?" Din asked.

Paz set his elbows on his knees and stared at the infant, so small and helpless. He had blamed Din, had cursed his name for weeks, but regret... "No. Foundlings are precious, every child deserves a chance, and we could not abandon one of our own in his time of need," he sighed heavily, "this is the way."

"This is the way," Din repeated automatically. He blamed himself. If he had not taken the job from the Imp none of this would have happened, that was fact. The sight of so much beskar... He thought he was doing right by his tribe. But regrets were useless.

"Besides," Paz straightened up in the chair, "what's done is done. We can’t afford to lose any more of us, not even you."

Din let the comment slide.

"Why was he left to wander on his own anyway?" Paz indicated the child, who had discovered the cot and climbed up, little lump moving around under the thin blanket.

"Why did you just pick up a child and walk away with it?"

Paz snorted, "Luckily I did, could have been anyone else." That was a good point.

"I put him down and he got away from me, I only looked away for a moment..."

"Do you know nothing of caring for a child?"

"Do you?" Din retorted, almost angrily.

Paz stretched his arms behind his head and leaned back. "A good deal more than you I'd say." He had been fond of the foundlings in the covert, his heart hurt to think any of them might have perished on Nevarro. "I see you've gotten your signet," changing the subject, he indicated Din's pauldron sporting the image of the mudhorn.

With little else to do or speak of for the time, Din told Paz everything that had happened from the beginning of finding the child. Paz was impressed by the tale, jealous even; the younger Mandalorian had seen more action in a few months than he had in years.

Din did not tell Paz of the child’s connection to the Jedi, he was disbelieving of the child’s strange powers, and if the man did put the two together he hoped he would trust in the armourer’s judgement as Din had.

“Well...” Paz said, breaking the silence that had fallen after the tale, “what now.”

“I’ll be leaving the planet as soon as my ship is repaired,” Din replied.

“Where will you go?”

“I don’t know yet.” Din didn’t have any particular destination in mind, searching for the child’s kin wasn’t exactly easy with no direction, no clues of any kind. “How long will you stay here?”

“As long as I need to.” Paz likewise had no direction; he could wait for contact or search for his fellows. Din had already found him, how hard could it be. A part of him wanted to ask the younger man to get him off of this dusty rock, but he was too proud for that, and if Din really had killed the Moff that ordered the attack on the covert, maybe it was safe enough to hitch a ride with someone else.

“Did you come on your own ship?” Din asked.

“Stolen one, left it on the outskirts, probably been stripped by now.” It was likely; Din hadn’t noticed any intact machines out there when they landed.

“Do you need a ride?” Din hated how he sounded almost hopeful. It had been a devastating blow seeing that pile of helmets, not knowing how many others had already been melted down. Paz was the first survivor he knew of besides the armourer, they didn’t have the friendliest history but he wanted to help him if he could.

The big Mandalorian stared at him for a moment, mulling over the offer, before accepting, “Yeah, I guess I could use a ride.”


	4. Seeing Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse my poorly improvised Huttesse, if anyone actually understands it, the dictionary is very incomplete, As alot of Hutt words seem to have multiple meanings based on context I have chosen words at least related to what I'm trying to convey...

Din had left the hideout to gather supplies and check on the progress of the repairs to the Razor Crest. The long day of the planet was only nearing its dusk and it was still as hot as it had been on arrival. Paz had offered to watch the kid, who had already tucked himself into the big Mandalorian’s bed. Paz had given him instruction to knock twice, three times, then four on his return, and not to be followed. He could have just given him the code for the lock, but Din understood, all Mandos had that paranoia. When you are both hunter and hunted, there is no such thing as _too_ careful.

He had procured a crate of rations and an unreasonably expensive fuel cell, among other necessities. As he carried the crate through the shipyard he could feel a number of unfriendly eyes at his back, a feeling of unease prickling between his shoulders. Activity had lessened around the yard, not many people stayed around their ships, likely crowding the local cantina for the evening. He was being followed, could hear the crunch of boots in the sand some distance behind; he didn’t turn to face them, keeping up the pretense of being unaware.

Whoever was following stopped at the last ship before the Crest.

The Mechanic was seated precariously atop the engine, welding tool sparking as he worked. It didn’t appear that he had attempted to enter the ship. The mechanic started at the noise as the ship's side ramp hissed open, he sat up abruptly and knocked one of the droids from its perch next to him, it squealed in panic, compacting into a disc as it slid down to the ground with a _clang_.

"Hey, Mando," he waved down, "finished with your fuel leak, wasn’t that bad. Won’t be long for the engine."

"How long?" Din inquired.

The man shrugged, "Hour or two." Din nodded. The man worked fast, which was fortunate, it would be best for them to leave as soon as possible.

He could see the leg of his stalker poorly hidden behind the landing gear of the neighboring starship. By the time he had finished stowing the supplies they had gone.

This time he saw the eyes staring at him as he re-entered the town, several Klatooinians and a couple of human men stood on either side of the street, their heads turning to follow him. He didn't look directly at them but a quick glance gave him all the details he needed to confirm their sinister intentions. They wore crude armour, a mismatched mix of durasteel and leather, with the same red symbol as the one on the pirate ship he had dispatched. One of the scaly pigs lifted a lip in a snarl as he passed. Long shadows began to catch up with him as he walked and he lengthened his stride. 

They knew it was a Razor Crest that had destroyed one of their ships, had probably been communicating during the shootout, and now they knew who owned it.

The pirates didn't make any aggressive moves out in the open and he managed to lose them in the market crowd. The Mandalorian disappeared down the same alley where he had lost the child hours before. As he ducked behind a dumpster and watched the alley entrance, three of his pursuers ran past, now shoving people out of the way, searching for him. One split off into the alley. As the Klatooinian came to the dumpster the Mandalorian caught them by the arm, twisting it around their back and shooting them point blank twice in the side. The body went down and he dragged it behind the bin, it wasn't well hidden, someone would find it soon enough.

Din hurried through the tunnels to the safe house. He knocked in the designated sequence and the lock clicked open on the other side. The child was up already and toddling around the small space, he waddled up to his father and looked up expectantly. Din had meant to bring a roasted paddy frog for him on the way back but the unexpected chase had foiled that. Din held out his hands apologetically and the child pouted miserably.

"We should leave soon, get your stuff together if you're coming," Din announced.

"What did you do this time?" Paz asked, accusatory.

"Looks like the same group as the pirate I took out, they are searching for a Mandalorian.”

The big man growled, "Then they will find two." He got up and moved for his jetpack and blaster cannon against the wall.

"Not yet. We still have a couple hours before the Crest’s repairs are done, we can leave closer to nightfall, try to avoid drawing attention.” Paz growled impatiently but dropped down onto the chair again, it cracked under the strain, miraculously it didn’t break.

Din prepared a ration to feed the now grumpy kid; it took some coaxing to get the stubborn Womprat to eat it. They rested for a few hours while discussing their options to escape the planet.

“Is there a tunnel leading out near the shipyard?" Din asked.

"Just one, and it's more populated."

An idea came to mind. "Can you rig that explosive to this door?" he nodded to the trapped door leading to the upper house.

"Why?" Paz questioned.

“If I can lead them down here we can slow them down and escape topside and avoid causing a ruckus in the streets.”

Paz nodded, though a ruckus sounded like a good option to him. The heavy infantryman was getting agitated at the prospect of a fight. It took a considerable amount of willpower not to get up and pace the room, though the small space didn’t allow for much movement, he settled for clenching and unclenching his fists. He would be glad to be free of this dusty basement.

Just before nightfall they checked their weaponry and began packing up everything essential that they could carry, they would leave the rest behind; there was nothing they couldn’t find again elsewhere. Mandalorians were used to moving house on short notice. Paz disassembled the trap and moved to rewire it on the lower door, as Din scouted the tunnels.

He hadn’t really expected any of the pirates to be hanging around after so much time, but there they were, two of them at the nearest underground entrance. If they were still searching for him he was willing to bet all the entrances were being watched. The two Klatooinians harassed a passerby for what little currency they had, shoving the unfortunate victim down the steps. Din took aim with his blaster, just before they spotted him he fired, putting a hole in one’s knee. Both pirates drew their blasters and returned fire clumsily as the Mandalorian ducked behind the corner and ran. He could hear them roaring to alert others on the street and down the tunnels, at the next corner he waited a moment before looking back. A small group was giving chase, too dumb to realize they were being led into a trap.

A Houdoggin sheltering in the cool tunnels screeched and sealed its earflaps from the noise of the blasters; one of the pirates slipped on the unfortunate creature, further stalling the pursuit.

He took a moment to fire blindly down the tunnel, a pained howl telling him at least one of his un-aimed shots had hit. He only had to knock once this time and Paz let him in. As expected the pirates could be heard kicking in doors along the corridor. Paz quickly re-connected the wires to the bomb then handed him a bag of supplies, slinging his own over his back and hoisting the heavy blaster canon onto his shoulder. Din picked up the confused child and they hurried up through the empty dwelling to the street.

As soon as they stepped out under the dim night lamps an explosion from below shook the ground, at least one group of pirates was out of commission. Din really hoped the mechanic had finished by now.

It became apparent, as they reached the front of the shipyard, that they were not going to leave without a fight for their lives. The way forward was blocked by a sizeable group of marauders, menacing shadows in the low lights, weapons drawn and trained on the two Mandalorians. They immediately dropped the packs they were carrying and leveled their weapons right back. 

Din angled the child away from the blasters; the kid whined in confused concern, unable to understand what was happening, only that it wasn’t good.

One of the pirates stepped forward, blunt horns framing its mud coloured face, crossed with deep scars. A Vodran. This was surprising, Vodran were generally only seen as Hutt slaves, but this one held a distinct air of confidence and superiority on its grisly countenance. The most striking feature of the species were their front set, angelic blue eyes, out of place on their broad, spiked faces. This Vodran, however, was different; his eyes were a deep crimson, fitting perfectly under the thick, furrowed brow. An anomaly or augmentation?

Beside Din, Paz growled in recognition. “I’ve heard of these guys,” he spoke low, “they call themselves the Red Rancors.” Not an original name by any means, but menacing all the same.

“Dopa Mandos, inkabunga!” The Vodran spoke to his troop in Hutesse, he spat the language almost resentfully, then addressed the two Mandos directly, “Chubba brocktull myo pankpa,” referring to the ship Din had destroyed with his Razor Crest, clearly not pleased about it.

Neither Mandalorian spoke. When the silent standoff grew long, with no apologies forthcoming, the Vodran leader continued. “Pron choba uba bargon, kras je uba junkie pankpa, habba uba bolla.”

There was no way Din was giving up his ship as recompense to these bastards; it was worth all of their lives and more to him. Beside him Paz growled, about ready to make the first move if no one else did soon.

The red eyed Vodran scowled at their continued silence, mistaking it for lack of understanding, he tried again in common. “Put down your weapons and surrender your ship, and maybe I will let you walk away from this alive. Fa choba!”

“We’re not giving you anything,” Din finally answered. He couldn’t see an immediate way around the situation, all they could do was brace for the fight, finger ready on the trigger.

The child whined and squirmed against the Mandalorians arm, drawing the attention of the Vodran, who seemed not to have noticed the little creature. He grinned, lips like cracked dirt peeling back to reveal sharpened teeth as a purple tongue licked over them. “Meendeeya da con smak tellia stuka meeshku.” His crew laughed behind him.

This was Paz’s queue to open fire, his heavy blaster canon buzzing to life and mowing through the first few pirates in line. The Vodran leader reacted fast, diving to the side and shouting to his subordinates to retaliate, “Crispo hoohah!” Red bolts began bouncing off the infantry Mandalorian’s beskar.

Din rolled behind the larger man and dove into an entryway, flattening himself as much as possible in the corner against the metal door. A blaster bolt bounced off his exposed pauldron as his side stuck out from the meager cover. A cylindrical garbage bin lay on its side nearby, without thinking he stuffed the child inside and kicked it to roll away from the fire fight, then joined the fray at Paz’s side as two Klatooinian’s rushed them with electro spears.

The big Mandalorian side stepped, grabbed one spear by the shaft and easily pulled it free of the assailant’s grip while Din dispatched the other. A shot came dangerously close to Paz’s neck, one human was shooting from the back of the group, aiming carefully for the gaps between the impenetrable beskar. Paz shot his grapple around the man’s neck and yanked him forwards so hard he flew off his feet, at the same time Din brought his knee up to meet the man’s face, caving in his nose with a sickening _crack!_

A rush of excitement surged through both Mandalorians. It had been a while since Din had a good partner in battle, and hadn’t hoped to find another. Cara had been a strong presence at his back, he remembered fondly, but seeing Paz Vizla in action was something else. The big man threw his bulk around without restraint, tossing pirates around like they were nothing, obliterating them with a single punch; even bludgeoning one pirate with another.

More pirates seemed to come out of hiding from every corner. Paz had never hoped to see battle like this again, a fight with even odds against the scum of the galaxy, without Imperial threat looming over their heads and the loss of countless comrades. Out here they were a force to be reckoned with, two Mandalorians side by side, they were an unstoppable force. Paz was reveling in it! Din’s speed and slighter stature perfectly complimented his own large size and brute strength, the smaller man keeping the closer ones off his back as he massacred the rest with his blaster cannon. Together they annihilated the pirates.

Bodies littered the ground, dead and unconscious. The Vodran leader was notably not among them. There was no time to bask in glory though, as the roar of distant engines over the desert told them reinforcements were likely on the way.

Din retrieved the kid from the garbage bin, he would need a bath; hopefully he hadn’t eaten anything while he was in there. They picked up their packs and made for the Crest.

Once they were safely aboard Din started up the engines, Paz took the co-pilots seat and set the child on his lap. No sputtering, no blinking lights, the mechanic had come through after all. In an instant they had left the dusty red planet behind. They finally had a moment to breathe.

He was startled by Paz’s sudden booming laughter, the child even jumped and turned wide eyes up at the big man, he had his head thrown back, bellowing out his mirth like a roaring Rancor.

Din’s brows lifted beneath his helmet. “What’s so funny?”

Paz calmed himself, coming down from his sudden high and shook his head. “It’s been a long time since I fought like that. It was fun.”

Din stared at him for a moment, then nodded in agreement. He knew what he meant; it was what Mandalorians lived for. Most of their kind had been underground for far too long, fearful of Imperial weapons; it was no place for someone like Paz. He felt a bit guilty sometimes for taking on the role of Beroya and leaving the others behind in the Covert, but for all the Bantha fodder he went through, Din wouldn’t trade it.


	5. Rough Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The workings of space ships are magic... Thanks ScarletRibbons for the flight tips ;)

The Razor Crest sped through hyperspace, the light of the blurred stars surrounding them and filling the cabin with a blue glow, as they headed for the next star system in line to nowhere in particular. Time had passed with hardly a word between the two Mandalorians.

“Where are we headed?” Paz finally asked from the co-pilot’s seat. He was bouncing the child lightly on his knee. In the hours since they had left Klatooine he’d become increasingly fond of the little green creature.

Din shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t plan on going Coreward if I can help it, we’d be more outlanders there than any other place in the galaxy.” He had considered the fact that somewhere on one of the core worlds, there might be detailed records of the child’s species, perhaps he’d even come from a core planet. He would rather search anywhere else first. Mandalorians didn’t belong there. Besides, he wasn’t certain of the state of the New Republic, they may be arrested as soon as they landed.

“Well, what do you think little green?” Paz asked the child, who looked up at him and cooed, delighted to be addressed.

“Little green?”

“Well, what do you call him?”

“Kid.”

Paz snorted, “That’s going to have to change.”

Din shrugged again. He’d never even thought to give the kid a name, it never seemed necessary. “I know him, he knows me.” That’s all that really mattered.

“Fair enough.” Paz conceded. “Perhaps he will earn himself a battle name. Little Green, the Mudhorn Slayer?”

“More like frog slayer.” He couldn’t imagine the little one ever having such a fierce title. Perhaps he’d better think of a suitable name before Paz made something stick, if he stayed around long enough that is. Din found himself hoping the big man would be around for a while; it was relieving to have another Mandalorian in sight, to remind him that the disaster he had caused was not so complete. He had another task now to set himself to, aside from finding the child’s place of origin, to find the rest of his surviving kin. Perhaps Paz would join him on that quest at least.

The child looked between the two Mandalorians expectantly, opening and closing his mouth. The child had eventually learned to ask for food in this manner instead of going looking for it on his own, becoming visibly upset when he was denied, but still never crying. Din wondered if the child even could cry, or if it had just learned not to through either fear or being ignored.

"The little one wants food," Paz recognized, "I wouldn't be opposed to some myself."

Din led the way down the ladder to his food stores. The child obediently munched on the ration he was given without complaint, while Paz grumbled at Din's lack of taste as he picked through the supplies for something palatable. Food was merely fuel and you took what you could get on the go. Din rarely complained about the plain fare, and he expected Paz only did so for his benefit. The larger Mandalorian retreated to the rear of the ship's hold, behind some netting and crates, for some semblance of privacy to remove his helmet.

Din did not bother to eat. He took stock of his ammo and the supplies they had brought with them from Paz's safe house, the bags still lay where they had been dropped on arrival. The man had brought a few extra weapons, parts, tools, bedroll and clothes. He didn't put anything away with his own things but set them neatly aside for Paz to sort. For lack of anything better to do Din began cleaning his recently used blaster.

The heavy footsteps clanking on the floor and echoing around the hold was a menacing sound. Din couldn't imagine the heavy gunner being capable of stealth, but all battle trained Mandos were.

"Impressive armoury," Paz said, coming up beside him, indicating the array of equipment displayed in the cabinet. The various weapons Din had bought or otherwise acquired through his years of bounty hunting. Much like Cara had done the big man plucked a grenade from its place and examined it, tossing it up and catching it in his palm as if appreciating the weight of the thing.

"Help yourself," said Din, not entirely sarcastic, "I have oil if your equipment needs a tune-up."

Luckily Paz had put the grenade back in its place, when suddenly there was a tremendous _Bang!_ The ship lurched violently, throwing both Mandalorians off their feet. Din landed atop Paz with a harsh clang of their Beskar chest plates. Paz didn't notice when their groins met through his codpiece, but Din certainly did. Luckily he could take a hit. His hand shot out to catch the child as he rolled by.

Din scrambled to his feet and shot up the ladder, Paz at his heels. Red lights flashed and the alarm blared. The ship had lurched out of hyperspace, engines cut and the auto pilot had ceased control, they were drifting sideways.

The problem was immediately apparent; the newly _repaired_ left engine had exploded. Luckily the vacuum of space quenched the fire immediately and there was no other damage, but it was still a very serious problem.

Din swore every word he knew, only some of them aloud. He should have known the mechanic's cheap, speedy work was too good to be true. He should have checked on the repairs himself and been more critical of the man's work, maybe he had even sabotaged them on purpose. Next time he would pay full price at a reputable repair shop. On the plus side they didn't have a fuel leak this time.

"I thought you said the ship was fixed." Paz griped.

Din cocked his head in annoyance. "You get what you pay for."

He took over manual control and restarted the right engine, managing to right the ship, more or less.

"What now?"

Din's mind was working quickly to find an answer. All instruments were still working, he did a scan of the sector, finding the closest inhabitable planet nearby, Dokeis; they had been spit out of hyperspace only a few thousand miles from it. Several small moons orbited the planet, along with a sun just distant enough to keep it mostly frozen. Settlements were small and scattered, with no star ports or industry to speak of. Another backwater planet, there were still far worse places to be stranded.

"We need to land on that planet."

"With one engine?"

"We don't exactly have a choice." It would be risky, but there was no one to rescue them and no way to do repairs out here. He took a chance and pinged a distress signal towards the frozen rock.

"I’m starting to regret tagging along with you."

Intermittent bursts of the remaining engine set them drifting in the right direction at a harsh angle. Din had a couple of hours to plan out how to land them in one piece, perhaps not the ship but at least everyone on board. The signal he sent out received no reply, not a hopeful sign.

The white ball of the planet slowly grew as they came near, sparse patches of dark green and blue scattered among grey and white becoming visible. As they entered orbit Din scanned the surface using the ship's radar, looking for a suitable place to land. Their best chance was to find empty, level ground near a settlement. They found it on the other side of a mountain range. The inhabitants may not be friendly, but they had to take the chance, the last thing they wanted was to be stuck in the wilderness with a broken ship.

The Mandalorians strapped on their jetpacks in case they needed to bail out, not bothering to think about how difficult that might be. The child was tucked into a pack, secure in Paz's hold, ears down and little claws digging into the big Mandalorian's glove; comprehending the seriousness of the atmosphere in the cabin and the thundering of the heart behind him. Paz was rarely nervous, but things were rarely so out of his control.

This wasn't like trying to land with a sputtering engine, this time it was entirely out of commission. He would need to keep steady enough to keep the ship from spiraling out of control. Long ago flight training had taught him how to deal with scenarios like this, but he'd never had to face one for real in all his years of piloting.

"Keep the kid safe," Din said.

"I've got him, you just concentrate on getting us down in one piece!" Paz ground out. He was braced in his seat, boots magnetised to the floor.

Taking a deep breath Din took hold of the controls and began to ease the Razor Crest into the atmosphere, beginning a slow curving decent. It was rough, the ship lurched and groaned against the air resistance, both shield projectors still worked dispersing the heat of the entry. He fired the reverse on the remaining engine to further slow their decent. Din could feel the force of the upper atmospheric winds threatening to push the ship into a spin and he fought against it, briefly firing the right engine to keep them as steady as possible.

When they broke through to the lower atmosphere it was easier to maneuver the Crest into a glide, though it still wobbled dangerously. Easy part done. They were still going much too fast for a landing. Din dropped the landing gear in attempt to create more drag to slow the Crest.

When they cleared the mountain tops a flat white expanse stretched out for miles below, their runway. As the ground came steadily closer Din angled the nose of the Razor Crest upwards slightly. He realized with dismay that they were still going too fast. He retracted the landing gear so it wouldn't break off, or catch the ground and send them tumbling. It was up to the ship's repulsor lifts now; he hoped it would be enough to diminish the impact. It was too late to bail, he couldn't leave the controls. He wanted to tell Paz to take the kid and get out, but the ground was coming up too fast.

The child squealed as Paz tightened his hold unconsciously, Din had a white knuckled grip on the controls, both men bracing for impact. Neither of them noticed the tiny green hand raise desperately, as if to catch them from the fall.

Miraculously the ship slowed as it came down, but the belly still impacted hard enough to rattle the Mandalorian's heads in their helmets, jolting the systems into complete shutdown and bouncing the ship into a second impact, sending it skidding across the icy ground. The ship tilted sideways onto the weight of its remaining engine, ploughing the wing into the snow and bringing them to a hard stop.

Only his helmet and the high headrest on his seat saved Din from serious whiplash, but it hurt all the same. Paz was in no better shape. Din turned to look at him, eyes going immediately to the child clutched too tightly to his chest. The kid was visibly shaken but otherwise fine. There was a collective sigh of relief.

"You're going to crush him," Din took the child and stroked his long ears in comfort.

"We're alive?" Paz said in mock disbelief.

"Repulsor lifts worked better than I thought."

Paz leaned over and clapped him hard on the shoulder, "Well done Djarin, you always were a flyboy," he praised, speaking of his prowess in flight training, the only other time Paz had ever seen him fly.

Din restarted the systems for a damage report. With the ship on its side he couldn't extend the landing gear. The right wing was heavily buried in the snow. They weren't getting off the ground any time soon. The nearest settlement was miles away on foot, smoke and rooftops just barely visible over the horizon. He wondered if anyone had seen their crash landing, if anyone would come out to investigate.

He stepped out into the knee deep snow and hefted his Amban rifle to peer through its scope. Sure enough there were figures gathered at the fringes looking out in their direction. They were too far to identify any characteristics other than humanoid.

Paz came up beside him and he handed over the rifle for him to look. "Seem more curious than hostile," he said.

"Well, let’s go say hello, we can't stay out here."

They packed up whatever they might need that they could carry. The child was bundled up in his blanket in the pack and they set off towards the horizon. They didn't use their jetpacks, the frigid air making them sputter. Din left his own jetpack behind in favor of carrying an extra pack of supplies; he hadn't had the time to practice the drills. He was confident he could figure it out; a few bumps and scrapes, or even broken bones were never much of a setback for a Mandalorian, but here, with the kid, he didn't want to take any chances.

No one came out to meet them; the people that had been milling about the edges of the settlement had dispersed. It was nearly nightfall when they walked into the town and the temperature was dropping rapidly, the thermal regulation in the Mandalorians' armour wouldn't be able to keep up; Din held the child tightly to his front, he was burrowed into the pack with shivering ears poking out of the tightly wrapped blanket. The streets were deserted and there was the heavy smell of wood smoke and other burning fuels in the air. The duracrete and stone huts were as grey and cold looking as the environment, snow cresting the rooftops, like a miniature mountain range. A complex network of metal pipes protruded from and wound around the buildings, the air steaming around them suggesting heated water running within.

"See a cantina anywhere?" Din questioned as they walked through the empty town, knowing Paz had already observed the same things. There was no such gathering place.

"No," Paz answered. "I suppose we could knock on a few doors..."

"You really think anyone would answer?" Paz shrugged. Not many people were willing to offer help to a heavily armoured stranger, especially a Mandalorian. But it was possible they might get a meal and a place to stay if they let their credits do the talking.

Paz went to the nearest door where yellow light filtered through the buildings dingy, frosted windows. He raised his fist and pounded on the metal door, a bit too aggressively. Din feared they may have startled the inhabitants, but after a few moments the door slid open a crack and a human eye peeked out, going wide at the sight of the armoured men.

Din stepped up beside Paz and spoke, before the larger man could demanded anything in his booming voice, the occupant was intimidated enough already. "Sorry to bother you, we're looking for a place to shelter for the night."

The door did not open any wider, the man inside barely considered them before answering, "Try further along." The door closed on them again.

Din sighed, wondering if it was even worth trying. Maybe they should just hunker down under the steaming pipes and wait till morning. He said as much to Paz, and after being turned away or ignored a few more times, the big man agreed.

At the back of one of the buildings they found a nook beneath the network of pipes and settled on the hard ground next to each other. The child made an unhappy noise at their predicament but stayed buried in his blanket and bag. The pipes radiated just enough heat to keep the biting chill at bay, the ground around them was wet with melted snow seeping into the bottoms of their pants; this was sure to cause some serious discomfort come morning. As it was they could no longer ignore their aches and pains, the strain from the crash and a day of trudging through the snow had made their bodies numb, but now that they were at rest the feeling was coming back strong.

"Rest, I'll keep watch for a while," Paz offered, but Din did not get much rest at all. His legs were aching and the ground was biting into his backside. He refused to shift constantly trying to find comfort that wouldn't come, what little there was came with leaning against the other Mandalorian's side, welcoming the extra warmth and a surface that was both softer and more solid than stone. 


	6. Sparkling Dawn

Something woke Din, an unnerving feeling he was too groggy to place. The first thing he noticed through the haze of sleep was the solid form of Paz pressed to his side, head lolled in slumber; he was warm against him and that side of his body had considerably more feeling than the other exposed to the cold. Sometime in the night the cold dampness had sent both Mandalorians into a torpor like state, whoever was last to keep watch failing to wake the other. The bag with the child still sat snugly in his lap, green ear tips barely visible above the blanket and moving slightly with its sleeping breaths.

Din looked up through sleep clouded eyes to the grey sky of early morning, where a light snow was drifting lazily down... and a hulking silhouette standing over them. He clumsily reached for his blaster, his arm protesting with a loud crack in the elbow joint that he felt all the way up to the shoulder, his stiff fingers fumbling for the weapon at his hip. The sudden movement roused Paz who likewise reacted to the threat.

The creature before them produced no blaster of its own, nor made any movement towards them. As their eyes adjusted to the morning light they could see the figure more clearly, looming tall and imposing over them, like some spectre from out of a blizzard. Its great domed head tilted down, gazing at them with four emotionless, beady black eyes. Its body looked like that of a white Wookie, just as big and hairy, but the claws on its club-like limbs were far larger and more dangerous looking.

"What is that?" Paz whispered.

Din struggled to place where he had seen such a creature before, then realized he hadn't actually seen one, but he had learned about them. "I think it’s a Talz," he answered, a little unsure, "last I heard the species were primitive, savage." But people said that of Mandalorians once, some still did. Talz were not a space traveling species, only taken from their home planet as slaves. Was this a slave then?

The creature began to snarl and snort through the small proboscis in the center of its face. Despite the nature of the sounds the thing's posture did not seem overly threatening.

"What does it want?" Paz asked.

"Not a clue," Din replied. He had never put much effort into learning languages without clear words, and it was a mystery how anyone could decipher such sounds as a language at all. He was considering attempting to communicate with a form of sign language when the creature turned and lumbered away. He looked at Paz and shrugged.

The act of standing up revealed the extent of the damage a night on cold wet ground had done. Their legs were numb and their backs screamed in agony, every stiff joint audibly cracking like a thin sheet of ice. Unable to silence their groans of discomfort, they powered through a stretching routine. It wasn't a new pain for Din, only the intensity of it, bounty hunting had left him sleeping on the cold ground more than once. Paz was not so used to it; his already heavy body now felt like he was trying to lift a Dewback. 

The steam from the pipes was beginning to frost over on their armour as they stepped away from the building's meager shelter, Paz marveled at the way it sparkled on Din's shining beskar in the dim sunlight, making the man look like he was encrusted with crystals. The child seemed equally enraptured when he ventured a look out of the bag. The sparkles of frost reflected in his large eyes as he reached up to his father. Din looked down at the child and Paz could hear the fond smile in his voice as he asked if it was hungry. This scene was beautiful in different ways, he thought. As wondrous as pure shining beskar is, so too is a father holding his child.

This brought Paz to reminisce of home, family and all the comforts that came with it. A far cry from where they were now, but at least he was not alone.

"A warm meal would certainly be better than cold, dry rations. We need something hot and hearty after last night." Paz punctuated this with another stretch, cracking his back painfully. "We should try again to find someone accommodating."

At that moment both men were imagining their own traditional Mandalorian favorites, the spicy meals they knew from childhood that could chase away the cold in an instant and leave the mouth pleasantly smouldering for hours. They were unlikely to find any such thing here, but the thoughts were of some comfort. 

Now that it was daytime there was plenty of activity going on in the town. As with most planets they landed on the population was largely human. More than once they thought they spotted a Wookie, or perhaps a Gotal, both would be well suited to the planet's cold with the amount of fur covering their bodies.

Another such furred creature was approaching them the front, its hard eyes fixed on the Mandalorians. They reached for their weapons but did not draw, holding a defensive stance. As it drew near they saw it was not so hairy itself but wearing a large fur vest, and sporting some impressive facial hair. This one they recognized for a Lasat, another proud race of warriors devastated by the Empire, almost as rare to see as a Mandalorian.

The Lasat stopped a few feet in front of them, looking down on them from its imposing height. His advanced age was clear; he stooped only slightly but still stood just over two meters. The beastly humanoid was entirely grey, only a few faded patches of a striped pattern visible on its bare arms. He sported a beard that framed his face like a half mane and a nasty series of scars across his right eye.

Given what they knew about the Lasats' warrior culture, this would be a formidable opponent, even unarmed, he instantly had the Mandalorians' respect as a potential enemy.

The Lasat studied them a moment, raising a brow when he spotted the child in the bag at the smaller man's hip, before speaking in a deep growl of a voice. "Mandalorians eh, my friend said he had seen some strange new creatures out here. You crashed yesterday, out on the ice field?"

The two men glanced at each other, relaxed and lowered their hands from their weapons. Din answered for them. "Yes. We're looking for a place to shelter and a means to repair our ship; do you know where we can find either of these?"

"Might be that I do," the Lasat chuckled. He motioned with an arm for them to follow and turned to leave.

They were led to a sizeable warehouse at the edge of the town, a workshop from the looks of the tools and parts covering the walls and numerous shelves. They were invited into a smaller adjoined building that passed for a living space and seated at a table; which looked more like a repurposed work bench, complete with grease stains. The whole interior was bare metal, duracrete and in some places wood. More of the same hot water pipes lined the walls and ceiling, warming the place in absence of insulation. It was sparse and dirty but blessedly dry and warm.

From another room a shuffling and scraping announced the arrival of the Talz they had seen earlier that morning. So this was the Lasat's 'friend.'

"Drazzen Ven," the Lasat introduced himself, "this is Gid Nac, say hi Gid," he nudged his Talz companion who gurgled in response. The two Mandalorians nodded but did not offer their names; the old Lasat didn't seem to care. "So, what business do two Mandos have here?"

"None," Paz answered curtly.

"Engine malfunction," said Din. At the questioning look he received he proceeded to tell the Lasat the short form of their ordeal; the bad repair job and the emergency landing.

Drazzen Ven shook his head at their misfortune, "Lucky to be alive then." They really were, many times over.

Paz grunted, "The night sleeping outside did us worse than the crash." The big man was getting grumpy as hunger made its self known.

"Forgive the people here for not sheltering strangers, most people settled here to get away from the rest of the galaxy. This planet doesn't provide much, every now and then a ship will make a trade run and whatever we get has to last until the next one, can't blame em for not wantin to share."

"What about you?" Din asked.

Drazzen scratched his hairy chin, "That depends..."

"On?" Paz crossed his arms impatiently, finger tapping on his bracer. He would have to get used to this attitude from just about everyone in the galaxy, Din knew how frustrating any encounter could be, he had learned patience, but there was a limit.

"We have money," Din offered.

"That's a start."

Paz tilted his head and growled, for a moment Din feared he would threaten the creature or start throwing punches. But the Lasat laughed at his reaction.

"I’m just joking with you. Gid, heat up that stew for our guests." The Talz wandered out of the room presumably to do as asked. "Have a hot meal and then we can talk business about your ship repairs."

"Thank you," said Din. "Do you have somewhere private where we can eat?"

Drazzen tilted his head, confused, "why?"

"We do not reveal ourselves to anyone," Paz explained.

"That's new," Drazzen shrugged but didn't press it further. "Suit yourselves; storage room should be fine, just push the stuff out of the way."

The two men shoved their way into the cluttered storage room with their bowls of stew in hand, removing their helms on opposite sides of a shelving unit. The stew was made with mostly recognizable preserved vegetables and some mystery meat, it tasted fairly decent and they were pleasantly surprised to find it had some sort of spice, though it was not nearly up to Mandalorian standards. Paz was sorely tempted to ask for seconds but did not want to test the generosity of their host, or to seem desperate.

When they had finished with their meal they joined the Lasat outside to discuss the matter of the Razor Crest's repairs. The ship was easy to spot out on the horizon, glinting brightly from the sun and the reflection of the pure white snow. Rather than trek the few miles out Drazzen unfurled a spy glass to view the immediate state of the ship, and trusted in the Mandalorian's description of the damage.

"Yeah, I can fix it," Drazzen said, flattening the spyglass and putting it into a belt pouch. "gonna take a while to wrangle up the gear to get it upright and back here, and it'll cost you."

"How much?"

"A lot."

Din cocked his head in annoyance. The non-answer said it would be much more than they had. They would need to look for work, if there was any to be had on this planet. They still had rations for food, but the ship would eventually need fuel again. His money reserves were dangerously low and Paz did not have much to add.

"Is there anywhere we can look for work?"

Drazzen furrowed his brow and stroked the thick wiry hair on his chin as he thought. "Not much worthy of a Mandalorian... but, I've got something you could do for me, shouldn't be too much trouble for both of you I'm sure," he chuckled to himself. The two Mandalorians shared a glance.

"What's the job?" Paz asked, again growing impatient with the old Lasat.

"There's a creature that lives on this planet, a sort of worm, big one," The Lasat spread his arms to indicate _'big'_ without revealing anything about the actual scale of the creature. "Bring me the hide of the beast and we'll work out a deal with whatever credits you've got."

"A worm hide?" Paz questioned. It seemed too small a price for ship repairs.

"The ice worm's hide has unmatched insulation, pretty useful in this climate, folks'll pay good money for it," Drazzen explained, "While you're at it bring back some of the teeth."

"What do the teeth do?'

The Lasat shrugged, "Make a good necklace."

Drazzen had the Talz bring him a map of the area, which he spread out on a workbench. He pointed to a spot in the mountain range just beyond the village, circling the area. "Last I saw the worm laired around here." It was a good distance away; it would take them two days to travel there and back on foot if the pace was steady. Jet packs were not reliable in a climate this cold. It would be most efficient to find speeders, or some sort of mount, which Din dreaded; animals were not his preferred method of transportation. They were dismayed to find that Drazzen did not own any speeders, nor were they likely to find any in the town up for rent.

"Could stick around for a few months, regular supply ship will come along eventually, they might have some speeders to trade, but I doubt it." Drazzen said. It wasn’t a real option, the Mandalorians were not keen on staying very long if it could be avoided. The Talz made a series of grunts and gestures. "Gid says you should try sledding, not very good uphill but it'll get you down in a hurry." The two laughed together, like it was some inside joke, if the Talz's horrid gurgling could be considered laughter.

Din wondered how the two came to be together. From what he could recall the Talz were a primitive tribal race and rarely seen off world. He didn't ask the question though; it was none of his business.

Perhaps sensing the curiosity behind the visor following his companion, the Lasat said, "Rescued Gid from a slaver a long while back, offered to return him home but he said he'd rather travel, tired of seeing the snow," he snorted, "Which is exactly why we ended up here." The sarcasm was thick but not bitter. "Guess we all go back to what we know eventually."

That rang true for Paz, already missing the heat of a home long lost. He would find it again somewhere, and it was certain to be more comfortable than this icy rock.


	7. Taking a Tumble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The child fell down and Din came tumbling after...

The night they spent in Drazzen Ven's humble abode was far more comfortable than the previous one. It was no high class living, but after making use of the plentiful hot water and a pallet with heavy furs, the Mandalorians felt renewed. The one good thing about the planet was its underground water reservoirs, heated by magma flows, they took some digging to get to but it was worth it for the unlimited source of heat and power.

In the early morning, after another helping of yesterday's stew, with the child begging for and receiving a second serving from the Talz, Din and Paz discussed their course of action. They decided it was best to leave that day for the hunt; Mandalorians never needed much down time. Preparation was easy, they stuffed their packs full of everything they would need; rations, tools, a couple extra furs they borrowed from Drazzen, and the map of the mountain. The Lasat offered them heavy coats but they insisted that the thermal regulators in their armour would be enough as they kept moving. All that was left was to procure a source of transportation.

"You sure you don't want to leave the little one here? Gid has taking a liking to him," Drazzen Ven asked. The child was standing on the tabletop looking up at the large furry Talz, they were in an intense staring contest, neither blinking nor looking away. Din could not tell if this was a friendly competition or a standoff, but he would take the Lasat's word for it. They were quite curious of each other, the little one tottering after the Talz as it moved around doing chores, occasionally riding atop the enormous foot claws.

"It might be best to leave him, could slow us down on the hunt, he would be happier here, and out of danger," Paz argued.

"No, he'll be fine with us," Din said with finality. The last time he had left the child in the care of a stranger he ended up in the hands of a bounty hunter, he would not repeat that mistake. He wanted to trust Drazzen as he had trusted Peli and Kuiil, he didn't seem particularly greedy and was certainly able to protect himself as well as the child, but Din could not shake the apprehension of what could happen when the child was out of his sight.

The Lasat shrugged. "Suit yourself. If you’re not back in four days _maybe_ someone will come looking for you," He stressed the 'maybe.' "I'll get to work on your ship, should have some decent progress by the time you get back."

The Mandalorians thanked him, gathering their supplies; Paz strapping on his jetpack for emergency use and Din tucking the child into his pack, then they headed into the town. As Drazzen had predicted there were no speeders to be found, at least not available to them. There were mounts and working animals, including a heavily furred beast the size of a Bantha, with a shovel-like face; a native species used to ploughing through the deep snows, as well as a small herd of imported Tauntauns.

After learning the nature of their hunt none of the animal keepers had any confidence in their safe return and wanted far more than their worth for rent. This should have been a worrying sign. Only one man with one of the shovel faced beasts offered to take them a few miles up the mountainside, but no further.

With no other options they took the man's offer, paid him a decent sum and piled onto the floating cart. It was easy going for a while, until they came to the upper mountain paths and deep snow. The great beast put its head down and ploughed through with powerful legs, throwing its head side to side in great sweeps of its thickly muscled neck to clear the way. The cart floated easily above the packed down snow in the creature's wake, not slowing it at all. They enjoyed the smooth ride while it lasted, and in a couple of hours they had gone as far as the driver was willing to go. Din thanked him while Paz grumbled about paying for nothing.

They looked out over the expanse of white and Paz sighed. "At least it’s not the desert." The deep snow may be difficult and tiring to trudge through, but there was no worry of overheating and they could easily handle the cold as long as their regulators held out.

They hefted their packs and began the long and difficult hike.

The mountain was dotted with dark boulders and sparsely forested with hardy needled trees. At more than one steep incline they used their whip cords, wrapped around the sturdy trunks, to repel down safely. Din soon realized that an extra pair of socks would have been advantageous, as his toes began to freeze. Thankfully his boots were water proof; the addition of freezing water would have given him frost bite much sooner.

The low current running through their chest plates kept their core temperatures up, and with the effort of moving through the deep powdery snow they soon found themselves sweating; this would be unpleasant when it began to cool on their extremities, they needed to keep moving to keep the cold from seeping in.

They paused when they came to a low valley, dipped between rocky peaks. There were no trees to repel from down the steep forty foot slope. As they stood still to consider their options the child began to squirm, Din took him from the bag and set him down in the snow. The snow was so packed the child easily stood on top of it, sinking no more than an inch as both men were up to their knees.

Paz consulted the map. "We need to find a rout down, the lair is somewhere beyond the next peak, there should be an easy path around it."

"We don't want to set off an avalanche." Din scanned the peaks around them for an easier way down, shielding his visor from the glare of the reflected midday sun. Large overhangs of snow seemed ready to slide at any moment and the sharp rocks could make any fall fatal. "We don't have a lot of options," it was either risk a deadly fall or a crushing avalanche, or take a chance down the slope in front of them; potentially setting off a smaller avalanche, which could set off several larger ones around them, burying them in the valley.

"You use the jetpack, take the kid to the bottom, I'll risk the slope," Din suggested, Paz could easily carry the kid, but with his own weight plus Din's they wouldn't make it far.

Paz looked around. "Where is the kid?"

Both Mandalorians turned to look down the slope to see the child rolling merrily along like a little green snowball, bouncing over drifts.

Panic set in and Din began running and sliding down after the kid, all thoughts of caution lost, while Paz immediately took off into the air.

The little one was starting to pick up snow, and speed as he became encased in the growing ball. Din quickly lost his footing and began to tumble head over heels. It was a miracle that he managed to keep his helmet on! By the time he reached the bottom Paz had caught up to the now sizable snow ball, which broke apart at his feet. The little green trouble maker poked his head out of the white pile and shook the powder from his ears, shrieking and giggling with delight, as Din came to a sliding stop in front of them on his face, half buried in the mini avalanche that came after him.

Din picked himself up, embarrassed and brushed the snow from his pant legs and sleeves, but they were already wet now.

"That's one way to get down a mountain," Paz chuckled, and clapped the smaller man hard on the back, sending him face first into a snow drift, the sharp report of metal and Paz's hearty guffaw echoing around them.

They both paused and glanced at the surrounding peaks. No snow seemed to have been disturbed by the noise. They sighed with relief.

Din glared at the big man behind his visor.

The child started to shiver; pudgy little cheeks flushed purple with the cold. Din picked him up and wrapped him in his blanket, stuffing him back into the carry bag. "Let’s go, it will take a few hours to get around the peak, we need to scope out the lair and find shelter before nightfall."

The lair was in another dipping valley, the openings of several ice caves could be seen from their vantage point, they had no way to tell which one was occupied by the worm. Their thermal detectors could not penetrate far into the ice and rock. Small red spots indicated creature activity on the surface, but nothing big. Many of the caves in the area were natural, but upon closer inspection of the largest caverns they found holes nearly perfectly rounded, going deep into the ice; scraping on the edges indicating they had been purposely hollowed out by something. These holes were also concerningly large, with a nearly twenty foot diameter.

The Mandalorians looked at each other. It made more sense now why the locals had so little faith in their return. Paz silently cursed the Lasat for withholding this detail, and Din now wondered if leaving the child behind would have been the safer option. Said child had his ears lowered as he stared into the deep tunnel before them. It was a daunting sight but nothing any intrepid Mandalorian couldn't handle, this was only an animal after all... Unless there was more that Drazzen had kept from them.

They backtracked and made camp in one of the smaller natural caves on the peak. Paz laid out the contents of their packs and studied their equipment, the trapping supplies they had brought would not be sufficient for a creature of that size. They had prepared for something moderately sized, not colossal. It may be impossible to get an intact hide from the creature if they had to fill it with holes just to bring it down.

"Maybe it grew?" Din said, as he tried in vain to light a fire with the damp wood they had collected and a few scraps of cloth.

Paz growled. "That bastard knew what he was sending us after!" Growing annoyed at Din fiddling with the wood he carelessly aimed his flamethrower and let loose.

"Hey!" the smaller man shouted and fell back from the flames. After a moment the wood dried out in the heat and began to catch, leaving a small lowly burning fire and a lot of smoke. Din fixed a glare on the big man.

"I'm going to break his legs when we get back."

Din sighed as he lay out the child's bag and blanket to dry out. "We need him to fix the crest." He was also displeased with the situation. Neither man balked at the challenge, but they did not like going into something unprepared.

Din removed his boots to dry out his socks, wiggling his toes in the pleasant warmth from the flames. He watched as the child wandered around the small cavern, picking up small rocks to examine and putting them down again. The little one coughed and fell onto his bottom as the smoke wafted into his face, and Din smiled fondly. Would the kid stay here if he was told? Unlikely, he rarely did as he was told, if he even understood at all. He really should have left him behind... No, he still didn’t trust anyone with the kid; it was too late now anyway.

"We should get some rest, we'll figure out what to do at first light." Din unpacked the thick furs and laid them out over the dirt floor. He took the child's blanket, now warm from the fire and wrapped him snugly. The kid made an indignant noise but soon settled into his cozy cocoon.

"I'll take watch," said Paz. Din was about to argue that it wasn't necessary to be so alert out here, they had hidden the entrance to the cave well, but he recognized the man's need for reflection. So he settled down with the now dozing child and tried to relax.

Paz idly prodded at the fire with a stick, still spewing heavy smoke from the damp wood. From the corner of his vision he watched as the smaller man's breathing evened out into a steady rhythm. He stared at him, the child tucked protectively under an arm.

Paz had wondered many times since the purge whether a foundling might come into his life, ideals of a traditional family had long ago fled with the rest of the Mandalorians. He had much to teach and dearly wished to leave a legacy, someone to proudly carry the Vizsla clan into the unknown future. Despite his many comrades, friends, throughout the years he had always felt some connection was missing. In the coverts they all shared the duty of caring for and teaching the foundlings and the few Mandalorian born children, but their attachment to certain individuals was unavoidable. It was that connection Paz felt he wanted, the bond between parent and child, the honour of being called _Buir_.

Through his secret adoration of the scene he felt a stab of envy for Din, this man who seemed the most unlikely to take a child, solitary as he was. Paz knew it had not been entirely his choice, but a Mandalorian could not abandon a child in need, no matter how strange they were. _This is the way_.

The child stirred then, as if sensing his attention, cracking open large eyes to peer at him, before rolling over and snuggling against the beskar clad chest.

Perhaps a foundling may yet find comfort against his own armour, if he survived long enough...

He turned his thoughts to tomorrows hunt before settling to rest.


	8. Holes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what's the very 'first' thing you consider when taking on an enormous creature that swallows things whole?  
> ...If you said Exploding Bantha you're smarter than most people in the galaxy...

The two Mandalorians stood at the sloping edge of the largest worm hole in the largest cave. They had managed to tie multiple snare wires together to create a larger trap, it spanned almost the twenty foot distance across the hole, and they could only hope the creature had dug the space larger than its own body. At the very least the trap might slow it down enough to get in a killing blow. They would lure the beast with an explosion, it should expectedly respond to the vibrations as most subterranean beasts did.

"You ready?" Paz asked, blaster in hand.

Din nodded, with the kid secured in the pack strapped to his back, and unhooked one of the small explosives from his belt. "Oya," he murmured, activating the device and tossing it into the shaft. They stepped back immediately as the resounding explosion reverberated around the cavern, dislodging several thin icicles from the ceiling. The sound was loud in their own ears, even dampened by their audials, whatever was down there had to have heard and felt it. They waited.

Nothing happened.

After several long moments of silence Din moved to toss another explosive into the hole, when Paz put out his arm to stop him. They froze. There was a sound, a slow scraping of movement, like leather against rough stone, but it was not coming from the hole in front of them.

The worm burst from the wall to the side of Paz, he leaped back in surprise, just out of reach of a circular maw filled with multiple rows of needle-like teeth. He fired his blaster into the gaping mouth and it recoiled, scrunching up in the entrance of the hole. Din fired from behind him, hitting the thing in what passed for its face, eyeless as it was. The blaster bolt left a scorched hole in the skin, not seeming to bother it much.

"Aim into the mouth," Paz shouted. It lunged for him again. The barrage of blaster fire directly into the soft tissue of the worm's insides did a considerable amount of damage. Viscous black liquid dripped from its maw as it flailed in pain. With a roar Paz dove forward and plunged his vibroblade into its skull. The worm went lax and slid from the hole, flopping onto the icy floor of the cave in the pool of its own putrid blood.

The big man pulled his knife from the skull, noting how thick it was, had it been a normal blade it might not have pierced it at all. Din came to his side and stared down at the thing. It was far smaller than they were expecting.

"Looks like Drazzen didn't send us at a colossus after all."

"Easier than expected," Paz admitted. He still did not understand how this creature's skin was worth the price of the Razor Crest's repairs; it might make a few coats or a tarp, nothing he would pay for.

The child cooed at Din's back, his ears perking up high on his skull. "Yeah, we got it," Paz flicked the child's ear with a gloved finger, one not covered in the black blood. The child pointed at the large hole in the center of the room, but the big man had already turned away. Long ears flattened and he fell silent, staring ahead like a second pair of eyes on the Mandalorian's back, though practically useless.

"Still seems too easy," Din said, thinking the same as his partner.

"Would be difficult for anyone else," Paz reasoned, "especially without a vibroblade, the skull is thick."

The worm's hide was clearly tough; the blaster bolts barely penetrating a few inches into the flesh. It looked like an enormous grub, its grey skin was wrinkled and spotted with warty growths, thick hairs sprouting from the bumps. Ringed around the cylindrical body at regular intervals were spikes, presumably for gripping the icy tunnel walls as it pushed through with its undulating movement.

They studied the creature, looking for the best place to begin cutting into it. The skinning process itself took both of them, slicing and tugging. Beneath the two inch thick skin was a thicker layer of tough fat and the muscle structure beneath that was dark, they wondered if it was edible; though it was wholly unappetizing. The thing smelled as well, the hot innards steaming in the cold air.

They were completely distracted when the second worm erupted through the large center hole in the cave, ripping the snare from its anchor points in the ice.

The Mandalorians whirled around to face the new threat. This was bigger than the worm they had expected, a colossal column of rippling grey flesh. It towered up to the cave ceiling and bent towards their startled swearing and the scent of its fallen kin's blood. It lunged for the two men as they dove aside.

Din landed on his bottom, only just remembering to brace his hands behind him so he didn't crush the child on his back, who shrieked in alarm.

Paz was firing rapidly at the creature's head to distract it from Din and the child, now regretting that he did not bring his blaster cannon. He aimed for the open mouth as it turned towards him, but the creature was hardly phased. The big Mandalorian leaped into the air, firing his jetpack to dodge the creature's next lunge. It followed as he flew high over it and he found himself looking down into a terrifying pit of teeth and slime. He dropped down to the side to avoid a bite, falling hard to the floor. The worm would have followed but turned instead to face the smaller Mandalorian's blaster fire.

Din backpedaled as he took the rifle from his back and fired at the creature. The Amban rifle made considerably larger holes in the creature's flesh than the blaster, but it did not slow. He made for the cave exit; he needed to get the child to safety. They had made a grave miscalculation in taking on this hunt. Paz flew up to the ceiling again, trying to turn the worm away from the fleeing man and fire into its mouth. With startling speed the creature extended itself upwards, it missed the flying Mandalorian and hit the ceiling hard, shaking free huge chunks of ice. The ice crashed down in front of Din, just in time for him to jump back as a rumbling avalanche covered the cave entrance from the outside, plunging them into darkness. Their escape was effectively cut off.

Paz moved to dodge a falling icicle and in the sudden darkness was hit hard from the side, sending him spiraling into the wall and falling to the floor. Din heard the clang of beskar and Paz's pained grunt, he switched on his helmet light, praying the worm could not sense it even without eyes, and rushed for the fallen man.

Paz was rolling to his feet again quickly, cursing; he switched on his own light. "This bastard is tough!" He dearly wished he could rip it to pieces with his blaster cannon.

"We need a new plan," said Din, "any ideas?"

"Yeah, stay out of its reach." Easier said than done, the thing was just too large, and they guessed that not even half of its body was out of the ground. In its flailing it seemed to have lost track of the men for the moment. They slowly backed towards the wall of the cave.

The child shrieked in alarm at Din's back as more worms burst from a hole in the wall behind them, pressed tight together and squirming to break free of the entrance.

"Osik!" Paz shouted, alerting the larger worm to his position. "Osi'kyr!" He swore again and took off running, kiting the thing away, leaving Din to face the living nightmare before him.

The fat worms writhed together in a grotesque mass of rippling flesh and gaping holes of teeth, unable to pull themselves free. The sounds of scraping and wet tearing, as their spines tore into one another, had Din shuddering head to toe with disgust.

There was a horrid slick noise as one of the worms began to break free of the agglomeration, aided by the blood oozing around it. All it would take is just one to get loose and the entire mass of them would all come spilling out. Din plucked another explosive from his belt and activated it, waited for the frantic beeping and tossed it into the center worm's open maw. It exploded with a sickening _squelch_ , the blast ripping through the center worm and blowing huge chunks out of the others in the cluster, showering Din with the stinking blood and innards. Some still thrashed about and he finished them off with his blaster.

Din turned back to see Paz narrowly evade the colossal worm's swinging head. The heavy infantry Mandalorian kept firing into the worm's throat; it ate the blaster bolts like they were nothing, all it did was enrage the thing more. Din's hand went to his belt, one explosive left, they needed it to count. He needed to get closer, but it was too dangerous with the kid and he couldn't just set him down in here. They didn’t have any choices; they needed to kill it so they could get out.

He fired the pulse rifle at its head, keeping as close to the cave wall as he could, avoiding the many holes. The flashes from the pulse rifle were momentarily blinding, the light from his helmet only illuminated small patches of grotesque skin, and when he tried infrared the creature was as cold as the cave itself, nearly invisible. He had only a small view of the scene, occasional flashes of Paz darting by above.

The heavy Mandalorian couldn't keep this up forever, they needed to do something. His light glinted off something in the worm's mouth, the snare, caught firmly around several teeth and biting into its gums. He got an idea, and hoped Paz would catch on.

Din shouted into his helmet’s comlink, “Paz, the snare wire in its mouth, can you catch hold of it?”

The flying Mandalorian saw the wire swinging from the teeth and immediately understood. "I’ve got it," Paz shouted, "Djarin, ready an explosive!" He braced himself against the wall and launched directly at the worm. He caught the dangling end of the snare, wrapping it quickly around his hand, and pulled it with him towards Din, the force of the jetpack yanking the thing’s head to the side. He turned off the pack and dropped heavily, forcing the worm's mouth open and down to ground level.

Din reacted as soon as Paz dropped; as the thing's head came down he dashed forwards, pulling out the explosive and chucking it into the open maw. His aim was true, he couldn't possibly miss. Seconds later a hole was blown through the side of the worm, Paz had enough sense to let go of the snare as it reared up and flopped backwards onto the floor. It twitched for a few long moments before going still.


	9. Melting

After a half hour of digging and melting they had cleared enough snow and ice from the entrance for daylight to illuminate the carnage in the cave. With their exit secured they spent the rest of the day dismantling the large worm, divesting it of as much skin as they could carry. The skin itself was very heavy, still fresh and wet; all they could manage was a blanket sized roll each. Drazzen would have to come collect the rest himself. They had done far more than they agreed upon, and if the Lassat didn't think it was worth the repairs then Paz would tear off his arms and beat him to death with them.

Paz inspected the maw of the creature, filled with multiple rows of teeth in varying sizes, spiraling far inside. "He didn't say if these things were venomous?"

Din shrugged. "Doesn't seem to be." He couldn’t see any injection holes in the teeth, they were all solid, but there was a possibility of other venom glands or caustic fluids. They resolved not to make contact with the sticky saliva, quickly washing any off their armour with melted snow. Paz broke off a few teeth, as the Lassat had requested, and took a sizeable one for himself as a trophy.

Din had let the child down to wander, keeping close watch on him, but the kid was clearly starting to get hungry, complaining and sniffing curiously at the dead worm; he was quick to pull the kid away before he could take an experimental bite. The light outside was dimming fast, so they took what they could and made their way back to the cave they would sleep in for another night.

The child was still very energetic and curious, scooting around the small cavern and exploring every inch as though something might have changed since they left that morning; it was the fastest Din had ever seen him move. He knew the child could be much faster, but he had never seen it. He could run better than he walked it seemed, much smoother than his usual wavering gait as he stumbled along, though still somewhat hindered by his ill fitting clothes.

The kid stopped at Paz's feet and lowered his ears, cocking his head in concern when the big man groaned painfully as he sat down against the wall.

Paz grimaced under the helmet; he had taken some hard hits and was not looking forward to the journey back to the settlement. He cursed the town's people for not allowing them a pack animal.

Both men were covered in black blood spatter and bits of gore. After starting a fire and laying out the worm hide to dry, they stripped their upper halves and cleaned as much as they could with the snow. With no pot to melt it in they simply rubbed the freezing snow onto their skin and into the stains on their flight suits, scrubbing away as much as they could as it melted under their hands.

"Ciryc!" Paz shivered as he rubbed his arms, half naked in the snow at the cave entrance.

Din's attention was drawn to the other man's strong back as the firelight reflected off the wet skin, highlighting every muscle; there were deep red patches that would be the beginnings of some nasty bruising. The big Mandalorian had been knocked around quite a bit by the worm. That was the job of the heavy infantry, to take hard hits and deal them harder, Paz was good at it. Din knew he didn't measure up to the man in strength, perhaps not even skill. It was only the armourer's austere presence that had tempered their fire that day in the covert; if they had fought for real without being interrupted he wasn't certain who would have won. This man, freezing himself in the snow after taking on a colossal worm, was strong, determined, a fierce warrior and protector, an adamant keeper of the way. Paz Vizsla was Mandokar!

"That bruising looks nasty," Din nodded at the man's back as he looked over his shoulder.

Paz snorted, "I've had worse." Din didn't doubt it. Still, he could imagine the pain the man must be powering through.

"Let me see," Din shifted closer, taking a handful of snow and pressing it lightly to Paz's back. The big man hissed through his teeth and pulled away, then steeled himself and relaxed into it, the chill feeling pleasant on the hot skin of the bruising. "Anything broken?"

"Not that I can tell." He nearly jumped as he felt the smaller man's fingers prod at his ribs, searching for a painful spot signaling a break, only finding more bruising.

Paz's skin burned under Din's fingertips as he trailed them over his side, and he smiled slightly as the man squirmed under the touch, ticklish maybe? As amusing as that thought would be to pursue, any attempt to embarrass the man would likely start a fight. They had both had enough fighting for one day. The touch was not meant to be intimate but it felt strangely so; it had been a long time since he had touched the bare skin of another, even for medical purposes. The snow melted quickly as he soothed the angry redness, trickles of water running through the valleys of muscle, over the ridges of old scars and down beneath the waistline of the flight suit; an enticing display of a well crafted body hammered out through years of training, just like his beskar.

Likewise Paz had not felt touch upon his bare skin for quite some time, only the brutal stitching and cauterizing by medics. Din's touch was almost too gentle. He fought to remain still as the calloused digits ran over his side, not wanting to give the impression that he was ticklish. The touch was soothing, the snow a cooling balm on his heated skin. When had he ever been touched with any sort of care? Had he forgotten that Mandalorians were even capable of gentleness? Perhaps this was the result of Din becoming soft for his foundling... No, the smaller man was far from soft; the man had been knocked around by a Mudhorn, and from the state of his armour when he returned to the covert, he had taken hits worthy of a heavy infantry Mandalorian. No pel hut'uun would have survived that so unscathed.

Paz felt foolish for calling him a coward. The younger Mandalorian had met his challenge with a quick ferocity that had caught him by surprise, despite his stature the man was strong and certainly skilled, outmatching him in speed and wits; Paz may not have won that encounter. This foundling had risen through the ranks of their best warriors on determination alone, had earned his right to venture out of the covert and become beroya.

He started out of his thoughts when Din pulled away. "Bacta doesn't do much for bruising, do you want to waste any on it?"

"No, I will be fine," said Paz, then softer, "vor entye." Din nodded and went to tend to the child.

They sat close to the fire to dry themselves. Despite the smoke the small cave was filled with pleasant warmth. Paz knew Din was smiling as he fed the youngling, the child making faces at the tasteless food. The younger Mandalorian was soft for his foundling, but brutal in a fight. He may not have been pleased with the situation he had been dragged into, but Paz was glad to have shared a hunt with this man. He may have scoffed at the notion years ago, but Din Djarin was Mandokar.

When Din settled down with the child to sleep Paz did the same, the two Mandalorians back to back. Exhaustion overtook them and they quickly drifted off, lulled by the warmth and the steady breathing of the other’s body at their backs, the comforting security that they were not alone.


	10. Ret'urcye Mhi

They awoke as they had fallen asleep, backs pressed together, warmth spreading from the point of contact and just barely staving off the damp chill of the cave. The smell of old smoke filled their senses, making the muzzy state of waking thick and weighty; they knew they had slept through the night by the dull radiance silhouetting the branches hiding the cave entrance.

They ate their morning rations and packed up their gear; the grey sky threatened snow and they had a long trek back to the settlement. Din moved the child's carry bag over his chest so he could heft his roll of the heavy worm hide onto his shoulders. The hide hadn't dried out much overnight to reduce its weight and the added burden would make the journey significantly slower.

Paz plucked a still warm stone from the fire pit and handed it to the child, “A little extra warmth for the journey.” The child cooed up at him with lifted ears and held the stone reverently between his tiny hands.

Din rolled his eyes beneath the helmet, “As if I need more things weighing me down,” he grumbled.

“You’re strong, you can take it!” Paz clapped him on the shoulder, nearly making him stumble forward, which was becoming a habit. “We could fill the bottom of the bag with hot rocks, keep him plenty warm.” The child seemed delighted with the idea, but the glare he could feel behind Din’s visor said this was an adamant ‘No’.

As they began their return journey and rounded the first peak even Paz had to admit how much harder it was to put each foot forward, but neither Mandalorian would complain, both silently lamenting that they had not taken the offer of a sled. Din was about to suggest they fashion a frame to drag their packs behind them, when a figure crested the hill on the other side of the clearing.

They reached for their blasters. There was nowhere to take cover and they were stark against the pure white backdrop. The figure itself was barely visible as white on white, save for the belts and pouches it wore and the leather cloth at its waist. It was Gid Nac, Din realized, the Talz. He spotted the two Mandalorians and waved a huge paw; he was towing a sled behind him and stood atop it to slide easily down into the valley as they came to meet him.

Drazzen must have sent his friend to look for them; it wasn’t even a day past when they were due back. Din was grateful and a little touched, no one ever came to look for him on a hunt; a lost Mandalorian was likely a dead one.

Clearly Paz did not immediately feel the same, as the big man growled and stomped up to the Talz. “He knew there was more than one didn’t he?” Gid Nac responded with a tilt of his rounded head and unintelligible gurgling. Paz grumbled in frustration.

"Thank you," Din interrupted, taking the large roll of worm hide from his back and dropping it onto the sled. "There's plenty more in the caves back there, we couldn't carry much."

The smaller Mandalorian nearly flinched for his blaster as the Talz reached out to him, taking hold of the bag at his chest and lifting it to its face. The child perked up and squealed happily. Gid gurgled at the small creature, more concerned about it than the two Mandos or the worm hide.

Most of their stuff fit on the sled, including the child, and the Talz easily pulled it along without assistance. Without their backs bent it was easy going and they found themselves staring down at the lights and steam of the town just before nightfall. The residents seemed mostly surprised to see them, assuming they had frozen to death in the mountains; none of them would have felt the least bit guilty if they had.

Approaching Drazzen Ven’s workshop they saw the Razor Crest had been moved just outside the town, it was upright and sitting on its landing gear; a good sign. The Lasat was still out there working, perched atop the engine; he climbed down as they neared, with some difficulty, as though he had been in one position for too long.

“Still alive then, that’s good,” Drazzen said, somewhat indifferent, as he wiped his greasy claws on a rag. 

Before Din could answer Paz strode up to the Lasat and prodded an accusing finger at his chest. “Why didn’t you tell us you were sending us into a nest?” Of course Paz had not forgotten that perceived slight, it was one of his traits to hold a grudge until it was resolved; he may have simmered down but as soon as the subject of his ire was in sight he fired right back up again.

Drazzen raised a bushy brow, “What do you mean nest.”

Stepping up close Paz growled in his face, “There was more than one!”

“Only ever seen one big one out there,” he shrugged then scratched at his chin, “come to think of it, there were quite a few holes.”

Paz was not satisfied with this answer. “Did you send us there to die so you could take our ship?!”

The Lasat’s visage quickly wrinkled in rage. He spat on the ground and snarled, drawing up to full height and pushing his chest out to touch the Mando’s beskar, “What do you take me for, some lowly bandit?!”

“Enough!” Din cut in to halt a physical altercation before it could begin. “We did what you asked, we brought back the worm hide, and there’s much more back at the cave.”

Drazzen calmed and considered the rolls on the sled. “That’s a decent amount, can make a couple of jackets. Gid an me will collect the rest another time, it’s not going anywhere.”

“What more do we owe you?”

“That will do fine, besides, sounds like you went against more than you bargained for.”

“You have no idea,” Paz said. Din tilted his head towards him in a reproachful way, until he huffed and stomped off to the warehouse.

The child made an unhappy sound, either upset with the outburst, or more likely just hungry. Gid Nac carefully picked him up off the sled and followed the grumpy Mandalorian inside.

“Thank you,” Din turned back to the Lasat.

“No, thank you, I’ll get a good lot of credits for that hide.”

“How’s the Crest?”

“A day or two more of work and she’ll be good as new, er... as it was before you crashed it at least.”

“Thanks for sending the Talz out for us.”

“Eh?” Drazzen turned away from him and waved it off, “Wern’t my idea, was all Gid, he worried about the little fellow.” Din smiled knowingly. “Come inside an get some stew, the cold is starting to chew on my bones.”

The repairs on the Razor Crest went much quicker with the two Mandalorians helping, and they were finished in another day. They were informed that a transport was on its way

and decided to wait for it, to make a useful purchase or perhaps hear news from other systems. Drazzen Ven had promised the Mandalorians a share of the worm hide to barter with, if they helped him retrieve the rest. This time, with the Lasat to vouch for them, they were able to procure transportation; a cart with enough room for heavy cargo. The child was quite happy to stay longer; he was having fun with his new furry friend and Din felt at ease to let the little one ride on the Talz’s shoulder.

The corpses of the worms were as they had left them, with no signs of scavengers, though frozen and stiff. Drazzen did not seem fazed by the carnage. “You were complaining about this?” he remarked, “Looks like you handled it just fine, of course you did, you’re Mandalorians, I knew it wouldn’t be trouble.”

“That’s not the point,” Paz ground out, but didn’t argue further.

The frozen skin was harder to cut through but they managed well together and loaded the cart with as much as it could handle. They made it back in time to meet the transport ship.

The large vessel came with a few new migrants to the planet; looking tired and lost, as well as food, parts and even droids for sale. There was nothing the Mandalorians wanted, though Din eyed a beat up speeder and wondered if it was worth taking up space in the Crest’s cargo hold... He decided ‘yes.’

Upon seeing the two armour clad figures, a man, one of the bedraggled migrants, mentioned a rumour he had picked up about a Mando on Tatooine. The man could not be sure how recent the rumour was and it may have been about Din himself, but they truly had no other direction.

Paz and Gid Nac easily lifted the speeder onto the Crest; it needed some work, nothing Din could not manage, and would be a good pass time in hyper space.

“Almost sad to see you go now,” Drazzen remarked.

“Almost?” Paz raised an unseen brow. He was certainly not sad to be leaving this icy rock.

“Your friend anyway, could do without you.” Paz snarled through his teeth at the Lasat’s impudence. “Certainly sad to see the little green one go though, I think Gid might cry.” The Talz was holding the green baby in front of his four beady eyes, which were indeed sparkling with moisture, as the child looked up at him with drooping ears and gently touching the hairy face. Drazzen rolled his eyes.

Done with checking everything on the ship, Din walked up to Drazzen and held out his hand. “Thank you, for everything.”

“Welcome any time Mando,” Drazzen clasped his arm in a firm shake, “you two made me quite a profit.”

“Maybe we’ll see you again.”

“Maybe.”

They said their farewells, Paz offering a curt nod of respect which the Lasat returned. Din pried the child’s claws out of Gid Nac’s long fur, and they boarded the Razor Crest knowing they had made a friend, though Paz was loath to admit it.

“So, Tatooine then?” said Paz as they settled into the cockpit, “From snow to sand.”

“No better ideas,” Din sighed as he put in the coordinates for Tatooine. Neither of them was thrilled to go to the desert planet, and didn’t dare to nurture the speck of hope for finding one of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for Kudos and comments, all are read and very encouraging :)


	11. Heavy Landing

Travel time through hyperspace was usually uneventful. Din never had much to do when he had been by himself, Ship maintenance was dangerous during hyperspace travel, so he stuck to cleaning his weapons over and over, going over physical training exercises, and sleeping, with the only sound the constant humming of the ship's systems. Having the child to care for and occasionally play with had given him more variety in his day, and an excuse to talk out loud; even if the child wasn't the greatest conversational companion. At first the sound of his own voice breaking the silence was jarring, but he had become accustomed to narrating his every action for the child's benefit; he would think himself crazy if not for the child's answering sounds, affirming that there was someone there to listen to his rambling.

Din was still unused to the extra company on his ship and had to remind himself that the child's ears were not the only other pair present. Several times he had turned from his mundane mumbling to find Paz staring at him, helmet cocked curiously, perhaps in concern for his mental state. The big man never said anything about it, thankfully. Paz was more direct when addressing the child, never rambling. He was more conversational than the kid but not by much.

The busted speeder Din had purchased provided them with something more to pass the time, and they worked on the speeder together in mostly silent companionship, with a curious green child tottering around their feet.

Any attempt to teach the child even the slightest bit of mechanics was futile; all the little one managed to learn was that a wrench could be used to make copious amounts of noise and the welder made pretty sparks. Din was quick to snatch the latter device out of the child's tiny hands as Paz attempted to teach him how to hold it.

"I could weld my own armour at the age of five," the big man protested.

"He's not even that."

"He's fifty."

"I don't know what the equivalent age is, but he's not capable of using a welder; teach him to use it and he'll be cutting holes in the ship, or himself," Din thought grimly. Paz relented, handed the child the wrench instead and let him loose to do damage to the speeder parts Din had been working on.

When the navigator spat them out of hyperspace, declaring them at their destination, Din was dismayed to find they were almost half a parsec off.

"Is there no end to the problems on this ship?" a rhetorical question from Paz. "This kriffing pile of scrap has been repaired twice now."

Din gave a defeated sigh. "Well, we only hired Drazzen to fix the engine." There was no telling whether this particular problem was impending before the crash, or if the crash itself had jostled the system. "Could have been worse, we could have crashed into the planet instead." Paz turned his helm to stare at him in disbelief. "We'll have to take the long way from here." They were close enough, it wouldn't be a problem.

In the extra time they managed to get the speeder bike running, though they would not know how well until they got it on the sand. They were nearly there, destination planet in sight, when another problem occurred...

As Din napped in the pilot's chair he was startled awake when the top of his helmet hit the roof of the cabin. "Dank farrik!" He swore and flailed before pushing himself off the roof to catch hold of the chair. He pulled himself down and engaged the magnetism on his boots, securing him to the floor. The system's alarm hadn't gone off and there were no flashing lights indicating that the ship's gravity generator had failed, though it clearly had. This was going to cost him, again. At least Tatooine was in sight, looming ahead in all its dusty glory, its twin suns glaring brightly into the cockpit.

He had to adjust the strength of the magnets in his boots to walk, the weightlessness of his arms felt strange, like floating in water and it was an effort to keep them at his sides. If his helmet wasn't secure it would have floated right off his head. He was reminded how many things weren't tied down in the hold, it was probably a mess. He heard an elated shriek from the child, no doubt having the time of his life, and turned towards the ladder.

The top of Paz's blue helm came into view as he slowly rose from below, like a god ascending, arms crossed, the menacing visor fixed upon him in judgement. "Grav's broken," he said flatly.

Din sighed heavily, "I'm aware." 

"Can you fix it?"

"I'll have the mechanic deal with it when we get there." Hopefully Peli would be willing to cut him a deal, if she was available.

Paz scoffed and disappeared below. Din followed, disabling the boot magnets and propelling himself easily, headfirst down the ladder.

The hold was a mess, as expected. Everything was floating at varying levels, nothing stationary as the flailing child collided with everything around him. Luckily all of his weapons were secure in the locker, except for Paz's blaster cannon which floated just off the floor. The man himself was spinning in the middle of the hold, clearly enjoying himself, tools and other things clinking off his beskar.

"I've never experienced this before," the big man confessed.

"You've really never experienced a gravity failure in space?"As though it happened often...

"No. Haven't exactly had the opportunity to do much travelling," he tipped himself into a forward roll, "I expect this is a situation unique to the Crest."

The ship was in fact where Din had experienced the situation for the first time, several times in one day even, but he refused to dignify the quip with a response.

"We need to tie everything down before we land." Din began plucking things out of the air and stuffing them into compartments or tangling them into the netting against the wall.

The big Mandalorian ignored him, pushing himself off the ladder and gliding from one end of the hold to the other, chuckling, as though Din was not there to see him playing like the galaxy's biggest child. He caught the smaller child mid spin as he floated by, both giggling in delight.

"Can this be turned off manually?" Paz asked.

"You're not supposed to," though he had a feeling the man would try it one day for amusement anyway. Din wouldn't stop him. It was quite the experience to see the usually staid man act like a youngling, and it spurred a growing fondness for his comrade. A smile stretched his lips, safely hidden under his helm, and with a tilted posture that could be easily read as exasperation.

"You going to do that all day? Or help me secure things?" As much as he would like to keep watching, perhaps work up the nerve to join in, they would be in Tatooine's orbit soon.

"I'd rather do this," but he grounded himself anyway, letting go of the child and letting him float away.

They tied down the speeder and all the heavy objects, with no more storage space the rest of the small things were haphazardly shoved into the sleeping compartment.

"Ok, that should do it," said Din, moving for the cockpit. He plucked the child out of the air, earning an unhappy whine, and floated gracefully up the ladder. "Strap in." Din handed the squirming kid to Paz and belted himself to the pilot's chair.

As expected they were hailed by Mos Eisley and Din was pleased to again be directed to bay three-five. As soon as they reached the lower atmosphere and the planet's gravity was imposed on them, the Mandalorians flinched as something they had overlooked clattered to the floor below. Paz felt every inch of his body, beskar added. Din too was feeling suddenly heavy and a little light headed. They continued their gradual descent and landed safely in the hanger, right in front of Peli Motto.

It took a moment of stumbling to get used to their own weight again as they gathered their things. Din strapped his rifle across his back and Paz equipped the blaster cannon; if there was anywhere that a deterrent was needed it was Tatooine. The child was put into the pack at Din's side and hidden beneath his cape; he remembered how much Peli adored the little green creature and hoped to give her a pleasant surprise.

The woman held a look of mock disapproval, looking over the ship with a raised brow as the silver Mando descended the side ramp. The pit droids immediately moved in with their tools until Peli called them off, "Hey back off, you know he hates droids." a couple of the droids compacted upon recognizing him.

"May as well let them at it, the Crest could use a once over, and my gravity generator is broken."

"Oh so you're ok with them now, make up your mind!" she threw up her hands in a dramatic gesture, then directed her droids, "You heard him, get at it! And what happened this time, get into another fire fight?"

The Mandalorian pulled the bag with the child around, interrupting her tirade, grinning as her eyes grew and her frustrated wrinkles pulled into a wide smile.

"Come here you little womp rat!" She pulled the child from the bag as it cooed and reached for her face, "I was so worried about you." She nuzzled his little nose with her own.

The mechanic looked up at the sound of heavy boots as Paz clomped down the ramp, the droids, now fiddling with a compartment on the side of the ship, took one look at the big armoured man and cowered. "Got a friend with you this time," Peli remarked, "he's big."

He introduced Paz, the big Mandalorian offering a curt greeting and saying little else, warily scanning the hanger for any threat.

"We're looking for other Mandalorians, we received a tip that there was one here on Tatooine," Din explained.

Peli screwed up her face as she thought, then shrugged. "As far as I know you're the only Mando who's been here in years."

The news was disappointing, but not unexpected. Din trusted her information but thought it best to ask elsewhere. "We're going to go look around, can you watch him for a while."

"Of course!" Peli agreed enthusiastically, "For as long as you like, and we'll have so much fun wont we little womp rat?" The child made a noise that could be agreement or confusion, currently enthralled by her characteristically frizzy hair. "See, he likes the idea."

The Mandalorians departed the hanger and headed for the cantina.

At midday the place was nearly empty, save a few suspicious characters inhabiting the darker corners. It was one of these characters Din moved towards, avoiding the droid tending the bar; it was unlikely to have picked up the kind of gossip they were looking for.

The elder man in common rags looked up at their approach and smiled nervously, his attention shifting from the shiny helm to the blue one looming behind. Din wished his companion could be a bit more subtle; the big man was anything but.

"What can I do for you Mando?" The man fidgeted with his empty glass.

"We're looking for some information," Din tossed a single credit on the table to loosen the man's lips, the tactic usually yielded good results. "Have you seen or heard of any other Mandalorians here?"

The man stared at the credit as though afraid to take it. "I've seen you around before, lot of people have, hard to miss, I don't know of any others."

A thoughtful hum drew their attention across the room, where a Nikto lounged in a booth alone. His fine looking clothes matched his red skin and his jagged grin was as sharp as the horns framing his scaly face. He held a glass of dark liquid in one hand, the other draped over the back of the booth. His mannerism screamed of ill gotten wealth, most likely involved with one of the crime syndicates.

"I have some information I might be inclined to share, for a price." The Nikto smirked and took a sip of his drink.

With the Mando's attention drawn away, the old man slipped the credit into a pocket and hastily departed, along with the only other patron in the cantina.

"What's your price?" Din asked.

Paz had enough bargaining for the day already, he wasn't about to see another credit wasted on useless talk. "Tell us your information, and we'll decide what it’s worth."

The Nikto laughed, "You think threats will get you anything? Its money that talks," he rubbed his fingers together.

"Talk and we might be generous," Din offered. He noted the blaster on the Nikto's hip; this would definitely come to a fight.

Paz brushed past the smaller Mandalorian and leaned over the table, throwing a shadow with his intimidating bulk. "We might be _generous_ enough to let you live."

The creature swallowed, his facade of confidence wavering. To his credit he managed to stare straight into the huge Mando's visor. "You think I'm alone here? I've got many friends watching."

Paz knew it was a lie; he wouldn't be drinking in an empty bar alone if he had _friends_. He almost wished it was the truth, always looking for an opportunity to throw his weight around. "And how many of your _friends_ will it take to take down two Mandalorians? You really want to make that bet?"

The Nikto went for his blaster, he was quick, but his aim was off; the bolt bounced off Paz's beskar just above his stomach. The big man reacted, wrenching the blaster out of the Nikto's hand and grabbing him by the throat. Paz threw him, one handed, into the wall on the other side of the room.

Din marveled at the impressive throw with a stirring of excitement in his chest. The droid at the bar said nothing, just continued to clean glasses; bar fights were a daily occurrence. Din tossed a few credits on the counter for the damages, and followed the big man across the room.

Paz picked up the now whimpering Nikto and slammed his head against the table, cracking one of his horns. "Are you ready to talk now?" Paz growled. 

"Mos Pelgo," the Nikto hissed through the grip on his throat.

"Mos Pelgo?" Din questioned, "I've never heard of it.

Paz briefly squeezed harder and the creature squeaked, struggling to get out his next words. "Old Mining town, it’s there, north."

Paz let him drop to the floor. "You better be right."

The red Nikto gasped and rubbed at his throat, hissing, "You'll regret this."

A heavy fist slammed full force into his face, crumpling him to the floor. "I doubt it."

Din couldn’t help a smirk of satisfaction, or the odd stirring in lower places that he chose to ignore, as he followed Paz back to the hanger. They hadn’t expected to find anything at all, but they had gotten the information much easier than expected; he hoped their luck would last, and that they wouldn’t be falling into any traps...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh what fun we could have in zero G...


End file.
